Nature’s dens

February 2019

We were on our way to thin out regenerated birch in West Wood. Left to themselves weedy trees would lose out to stronger ones and die off leaving space for survivors to thrive. Selective removal speeds up the process. Terry and Phil, walking ahead, took a short cut through a stand of beeches. Mary and I, trailing behind, followed. Sensible advice is to take no cut-offs. Crossing a child-built bridge, I slipped and slithered into a ditch taking Mary with me. I’m not sure whether I had held onto Mary for support or if she was attempting to save me. It’s not a very deep ditch.

The bridge of logs

Tightly packed birch trees

Bridges are a side line here. The main business in the beech wood is den building. Kids have probably always loved to build camps and dens – hideaways nested in the branches of trees, a cave hollowed out among bushes, a burrow under a tablecloth, and anything created with a cardboard box and childish imagination.

The beginnings of a den

Getting to work thinning out the birches

Piles of birch brash

Childish fancies and fantasies fade and imagination dulls but, for some, the pleasure of a space of one’s own stays for a lifetime. For the adventurous that might be a tent or a bothy. Some may settle for a favourite corner of a pub, a quiet place in the back garden or in the house, a man-shed, a bench in the local park, a woodland glade. Big skies and open landscapes have a grand magnificence, but the small detail of place provides a different kind of satisfaction.

Being red-jacketed volunteers affords us licence to wander from the tracks and in among the trees. Every nook and cranny is worth close investigation – the exquisite miniature forests of mosses and lichen on fallen logs, bracket fungus decorating dying trees, ferns overhanging a stream, a clearing inviting you to sit and listen to birds and leaves.

Developing bracket fungi on log

Fungi on birch 

Moss & lichen on tree stump

Cladonia coniocraea

Of the many glades, clearings and stream banks of Gibside, there are two that are particularly special. One is in the West Wood – not far off the main track, but far enough to give it the sense of a secret enclave. There are a few older trees, but this area was largely felled about fifteen years ago. Almost thirteen years ago now, it was the site of the very first Conservation Volunteers’ job. Among the desolation left by the cropped timber we built a log pile. It’s still there, surrounded by birch and oak – some twenty feet or more in height. Nearby, nature, with a little help, has fashioned a clearing; a rotting tree trunk provides an uncomfortable seat.

The original log pile

Hazel catkins

Rhododendron bashing

A neat pile of rhododendron brash

At the other end of the estate, perched above Snipes Dene, is the other favourite spot – a clearing amongst old and new growth with another fallen tree to sit on to watch and listen, or just be still: another pretend hideaway, nature’s den.

Snowdrops

Steve Wootten & Phil Coyne